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Chapter Six
Charlotte lifted a hand to knock on the front door of Lady Baxter’s home, but the door opened before she could. The butler quickly and efficiently showed Charlotte not into the parlor, but into a small room at the back of the house. They were near the kitchen, if Charlotte had to guess.
She’d written Lady Baxter that morning and requested a short audience with Emma Tilbury. Apparently, a meeting between a marchioness and a maid didn’t warrant the wear on the furniture in a nicer part of the house.
Still, the room was pleasant enough. With only a few windows, the summer sunlight hadn’t heated the space to the point of being uncomfortable. The furniture was clearly worn and nearly threadbare in some places, but it was cushioned enough.
After only a few minutes of waiting, the door opened, and a young woman with red hair and a splash of freckles walked in. This had to be Emma.
“Hello,” Charlotte said, motioning to the seat beside her. “I am Lady Blackmore.”
“Oh, yes, your ladyship,” Emma said, hurrying forward. “I know who you are.” She took the seat with a nervous smile.
“I understand you visited the asylum last week.”
Emma’s smile instantly slipped. She turned away from Charlotte a bit, her gaze dropping.
Charlotte waited for her to say something, but when the young woman didn’t, Charlotte continued, “I understand you were hoping for some help in finding a new position.”
“Oh, no,” Emma said, shaking her head vehemently, though she still didn’t meet Charlotte’s gaze. “I am quite happy here.”
Charlotte’s lips twisted to the side. The young woman certainly didn’tseemhappy.
“Are you certain?” Charlotte asked. “I know ladies all through Town. I’m sure I could find you another post. It would be no problem.”
“Thank you,” Emma said, her carefree tone of voice clearly forced. “I am quite content here.”
If that were true—which Charlotte doubted—then why the visit the other day? “But you did ask Lord Windham for help in finding a new place, did you not?”
Emma’s lips squeezed shut until they were nothing but a thin line. After a moment, she spoke again. “I’m afraid you have been misinformed. Lord Windham did help me find a new position—thisposition—after I was let go formerly. It would be impudent on my part to ask that he do so again.” Emma took to fiddling with a bit of loose threads on the settee beneath her.
“Then you did not ask for help in finding a new position when you visited the asylum the other week?” Charlotte felt certain Mrs. Lewis had made that point, at least, very clear: Emma had asked for help in securing a new position.
“I may have considered it for a time. But Lord Windham helped me see that my life here is good. I ought to be thankful for it.”
Charlotte didn’t like the way her tone sounded so fake, nor did she like how the young woman struggled to look her in the eye when she spoke.
“Are you certain?” Charlotte tried again. “I can find you a new—”
“No,” Emma said, the single word hard and rushed. Then her voice dropped. “Please. I would rather stay here.”
Charlotte watched the young woman for several minutes. But Emma did nothing more than sit, her gaze in her lap, her fingers rolling the bits of thread between them.
“Very well,” Charlotte said at length. “If that is what you truly desire.”
Emma’s lips rolled inward again, and instead of speaking, she merely nodded yes.
Then she shot Charlotte a quick glance. “Pardon me, but have you been to the asylum lately?”
“I was there a few days ago.”
“Did you perchance see my sister?” For the first time since Emma’s smile had disappeared, her tone sounded sincere and hopeful. “I wouldn’t bother your ladyship, only I wasn’t able to see her last time I was there. I haven’t seen her for over a month now, and I was hoping you could tell me how she’s getting on.”
“I must confess, I don’t recall seeing her the other day.” Charlotte silently chided herself. She ought to have thought to check in on Emma’s sister specifically, knowing Emma was unhappy. But the true nature of Emma’s troubles, Charlotte could still only guess at. “But I will probably be visiting again in a few days’ time.” Charlotte often visited once or twice a week.
“Could you look in on her for me?” Emma’s face lit up. “It’s just, I always looked out for her, and she’s all alone now.”
Rarely had Charlotte been asked such a small, heartfelt favor. It very nearly sounded desperate.
